


Drop Dead Beautiful

by The_Tevinter_Biscuit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Bartender Hawke - Freeform, Blood Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-01 23:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16293947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Tevinter_Biscuit/pseuds/The_Tevinter_Biscuit
Summary: There was something strange about Fenris. He turned up late at night at the bar, always tired, and spoke only to the bartender: Hawke. Until one night, everything changed.ON HIATUS





	1. Feed

**Author's Note:**

> oof here i am with another multi-chapter fic! no idea how long this is gonna be, not too long if i can help it since there's other fenhawke stuff i wanna work on. maybe up to 5 chapters? idk. we'll see how much i can be fucked to write.
> 
> anyway, without further ado, i hope you enjoy this (smutty) opening

There was something strange about Fenris. Through all of the nights he turned up at the bar, Hawke had managed to get to know the young man fairly well. It would be difficult not to notice him regardless, given his bone white hair that reflected all the rainbow hues of the bar lights, and a sharp jaw that intoxicated him more than any kind of alcohol every time it moved. His deep voice had surprised him the first time he heard it, but it only served to draw him in.

            Even despite all of his charm, something didn’t seem right. It was understandable that one might be tired at this time of night, but Fenris always seemed... exhausted in a different way, like someone had drained him of all his energy and he was hanging on with willpower alone. It was an intimately familiar sight, but Hawke knew better to accuse random strangers of things.

            There was one other thing he noticed about Fenris, it was the black jacket he wore with the top button snug against the top of his neck. Even in the summer when the heat carried into the night air, he kept it on. He had suggested that he remove it, expressing concern for him overheating, especially given the stuffiness of party-goers crowding the dance floor. Fenris may have been sat at the end of the bar and established his own personal space to the other patrons, but there was no way he didn’t feel the heat. Every time he brought it up, he just insisted that he was fine with a slight grumble to his tone.

            “The usual?” Hawke asked when he took a seat at the bar on a Saturday night. The room was surprisingly quiet for a weekend, but things would surely pick up once it dived into the early hours of the morning. Fenris was actually here a little earlier than he normally was.

            “Yes,” Fenris said. He leaned on his hand, elbow on the top of the bar, as he surveyed the atmosphere of the room.

            As Hawke poured out a glass of Aggregio Pavali, their finest red wine, he couldn't help but notice that Fenris seemed much more alert tonight. None of that sapped energy vibe he had before. He slid the glass to him across the bar surface and kept an eye on him, watching pensively even as he served other customers. Something was amiss, he could feel it in his bones.

            It continued this way into the early hours of the morning. Hawke and Fenris made the occasional bit of small talk but not a lot else. Not that Hawke had time to dote over him when the bar started to get busy. However, the crowd eventually died out again as dawn approached, the sunrise peeking in the windows. Fenris was still there, sipping very slowly on his wine. He'd about made it through the bottle by the time Hawke's shift was coming to an end.

            “As much as I love you being here Fenris, you're going to have to clear out soon. My shift is ending, and the place shuts up for several hours. I gotta lock up,” Hawke told him.

            Fenris didn’t respond, just continued to sip his wine.

            “Hey, I mean it,” Hawke stressed.

            Nothing seemed to be getting through to him. Hawke’s eyes darted back and forth from Fenris to the sunlight beginning to peek out through the bar windows. He needed to leave soon and if he had to use brute force to get Fenris to go, then so be it. Before he could reach for him, Fenris spoke up.

            “Can I stay at your place?” he asked.

            That gave Hawke pause. What? They barely knew each other, and he was asking to stay at his place? He looked Fenris over, noting that unless his hunch was correct, Fenris posed little threat to him.

            “Why?” Hawke said.

            “You want me out of here, I have nowhere to go,” Fenris replied.

            Hawke pressed his lips tightly together. A feeling in his gut told him that Fenris wasn’t lying to him. If he really was in some sort of trouble, he wanted to help. That was just in his nature.

            “Are you in danger?” he asked in a hushed voice. Fenris hesitated before he nodded. “Okay. You can… sleep on my couch, I guess? I don’t have more than one bed.”

            “That’s fine.”

            The rapid reply was slightly more convincing. He waited for Fenris to down the rest of his wine glass before guiding him out of the door and locking up. The two of them began walking side by side back to Hawke’s apartment.

            “Are you going to tell me what sort of danger you’re in or…?” Hawke began a conversation. “Do I need to call the police?”

            “It is complicated. Don’t call the police,” Fenris said flatly.

            Why wasn’t he surprised? Hawke sighed and shook his head. He’d find out what was what soon enough, he was sure. Damn him and his good nature.

            It didn’t take too long to reach the apartment, as it wasn’t far from the bar. Hawke walked up the stairs and unlocked the door to his place, swinging his arm inside to gesture for Fenris to walk in. He grabbed some pillows and blankets for him, throwing them onto the couch. Then he walked around to shut all the curtains.

            “This should be fine. You’ve been up all night, I’m sure you’re tired. Sleep as long as you want, I’ll be around. I leave for work tonight at 7,” Hawke said. He watched Fenris creep over to the couch and nestle down into the covers. It was adorable watching him get comfortable.

            It had been a long time since he’d been this enamoured by someone. Of course, it was dangerous business. He didn’t know what Fenris’s situation was, but there was something telling him that taking him in was a good idea. The fact that he was undeniably beautiful was just a side benefit.

            “Thank you,” Fenris mumbled and it made Hawke’s insides warm.

            “Uh, yeah. It’s fine. You said you were in danger so it’s the least I could do,” he said, smiling at him.

            Fenris hummed in acknowledgement of his words and looked down at the blankets in his hands. Hawke looked at him for another moment longer before turning on his heels, preparing to leave the room.

            “Hawke,” Fenris said, stopping him. Hawke turned back around, meeting his intense eyes. “Would you mind staying with me for a little while? I have not had welcome company in a while.”

            This man was so strange. It was unprecedented how trusting he was of him, something was definitely wrong. He nodded and took a seat next to him on the couch.

            “I am sorry to have burdened you with this. I was unsure what else to do. The bar is always where I have found solace in my life,” Fenris said.

            “It’s a nice bar,” Hawke agreed. He twiddled his thumbs on his lap. “As for the rest… Well, I’ll admit that it gets lonely sometimes. I live on my own, so the company isn’t necessarily unwelcome. You have somewhere to go tomorrow?”

            Fenris shook his head. “I have nowhere to go.”

            “I can’t imagine it’s ideal for you to keep staying here with me, I’m a stranger. If it’s money for hotel you need or… a phone to get in contact with someone who can help you then I’ll do what I can,” Hawke said.

            “There is truly nowhere for me to go,” Fenris said. Hawke frowned, his heart aching for the poor man. He didn’t know what he’d done to end up in this situation, but it couldn’t have been anything good. “But there is a reason I asked you, Hawke.”

            That made Hawke’s shoulders tense.

            “And what was that…?” he questioned cautiously. It was hard to ignore the way Fenris pushed the blankets aside with ease, the way he crept closer to him, a warm hand on his thigh now. Maker.

            “I see the way you look at me, in the bar. Always watching out for me. I am no fool. I know what a man wants when he looks at me that way,” he said.

            Hawke swallowed roughly. It was true that he admired Fenris often, that he thought he was attractive and delightful to talk to in the brief moments they managed to share. He was unsure where this conversation was going however, and how he was supposed to react.

            “You got me,” he joked lightly, laughing a little and raising his hands slightly in the air in mock defeat. His eyes were still trained on the hand on his thigh.

            “I have admired you as well, thought of you. You are an attractive man, and one who is lonely by the sounds of things,” Fenris continued. His fingers squeezed his thigh, and Hawke noted the look of unrestrained hunger on his face. “Perhaps this arrangement could be good for the both of us.”

_Oh._

            “Fenris,” Hawke said sternly, putting a hand over the one on his thigh. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to repay me for letting you stay here or anything. Look, I think you’re  _incredibly_ attractive and I would love to… touch you, but I will not take advantage of you.”

            “You wouldn’t be,” Fenris insisted. He leaned closer to him, eyes dark. “I want this. I want  _you_.”

            It was tempting. Very much so. Hawke was unsure of his own ability to hold back if he got his hands on him. It had been a long time since he’d slept with someone, especially a human. That was, providing all his assumptions about Fenris were wrong.

            “Only if you’re sure,” he said.

            “I am,” Fenris said confidently.

            Hawke took a heady breath. “Okay.”

            He let Fenris lean in to kiss him. Their lips brushed against one another momentarily, breath hot, before they sealed the kiss. Fenris’s lips were chapped, rough, but wonderful. Hawke’s hands found his waist, caressing him. Skinny, he could probably make his fingers touch if he tried hard enough while wrapping his hands around his sides. But he could sense that he would not break under him. Strong, taut muscles under his fingers.

            It didn’t take Fenris long to shuffle into his lap. His firm backside pushed against him, teasing, taunting him. Maker, he was even more gorgeous up close. Hawke kissed his lips, his jaw, up to his ears. Slightly pointed, he noticed. All the warning signs were there. But something wasn’t right.

            Fenris rolled his hips on his lap as he kissed down his neck. Hawke momentarily hovered there, inhaling his scent. Rich, sweet, he smelled human for the most part. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

            Something wasn’t right.

            They made short work of their shirts, being tossed carelessly to the floor before attaching themselves to each other’s lips once more. Hawke pushed Fenris back down against the covers of the blankets. It was dark with the curtains shut, but there was enough light peeking in for Hawke to drink in the sight of the man below him.

            Beautiful brown skin, a toned body that enticed him. He was easily one of the most handsome men he’d ever met. The white lines that littered his chest were strange though. They almost looked like tattoos, but something wasn’t quite right about them. Regardless, he kept making his way down Fenris’s body with his lips and treasured every whimper that emerged as a result.

            “May I?” he asked once he reached the hem of his jeans. Fenris licked his lips and nodded.

            He unbuttoned his jeans and wiggled them down his small hips. Fenris lifted himself up to help him, until eventually the garment was tossed aside like the shirts. He was already semi-hard in his boxers, a sight that had Hawke’s heart racing. One would think he’d never been touched like this in his life. That said, he did seem a little skittish for a man who had boldly demanded his touch.

            “Are you sure this is okay?” Hawke said, pressing a gentle kiss to Fenris’s bare inner thigh, just below his boxer shorts.

            “Yes. You need not dally, I am no maiden. Won’t you fuck me, Hawke?” Fenris answered.

            Hawke wanted to make his own personal recording of those pretty little words leaving his lips.  _Fuck me._ He was tempted to pinch himself to ensure that this was in fact reality. This was almost too good to be true.

            “Gladly,” he said.

            As much as he wanted to savour this experience, to draw this foreplay out for as long as possible, he didn’t want to squander it all by not doing what Fenris wanted. Most of all, he wanted to please him. He hooked his fingers in Fenris’s boxers and tugged them down to join the growing pile of clothes.

            Fenris spread his legs for him now he was naked, and Hawke’s jaw dropped. Not many lucky things happened in his life, but this was certainly one of them. His semi-hard cock rested between his legs, flushed at the tip and begging for attention. He could even see that tight little hole peeking out from between his cheeks. It would take all his willpower not eat this man right up. After all, it had been a while since he’d last fed.

            “Do I please you?” Fenris asked, snapping Hawke’s gaze back up to his face. His expression was hard to read. If it wasn’t for the look of pure hunger in his eyes, he would’ve called a stop to this.

            “You’re gorgeous,” Hawke replied honestly.

            Fenris’s cheeks darkened with red, as if not expecting that answer, and he turned his head to one side.

            Hawke reached over for one of the drawers beside the couch. He knew he kept some supplies in here, for when the bar shifts were long, and he needed to release some tension. Shuffling through them as quickly as possible (as not to keep Fenris waiting too long), he managed to pull out a bottle of lube and some tissues.

            “Shit,” he swore.

            “What’s wrong?” Fenris asked, still splayed against the blankets and pillows.

            “I don’t have any condoms down here,” Hawke replied. “I could promise you that I’d be very gentle and careful with you, and that I don’t have anything you could catch, but you have no reason to trust a stranger,” he swallowed. “I can’t fuck you. But I  _can_ finger you, if you like.”

            He waved the lube in the air for emphasis.

            “You can fuck me without one,” Fenris said, pawing at his own cheeks idly.

            Maker, it was tempting when he was toying with himself like that. Just how much trust did he have in him? He knew that he would never do what he was doing, as a human.

            “That’s a lot of trust you have in me there,” Hawke said. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you in any way, so you have to be really sure.”

            Fenris had the nerve to roll his eyes at him. “You won’t hurt me. I can’t catch anything from you either, don’t worry about it.”

            So many alarm bells were going off in Hawke’s head. He couldn’t be human, there was no way, but then why did he smell so much like one? A part of him was tempted just to bite him, to find out. There was no way he could do that to him though, not after all the trust he’d just placed in him.

            “Okay, well, tell me to stop if you want. I’m going to finger you a bit anyway, is that alright?” Hawke said. Fenris nodded and spread his cheeks wider.

            He was going to kill him, at this rate.

            Hawke put down the tissues and lathered his fingers in lube. He ran one of them over the pucker of Fenris’s hole, licking his lips as he pushed one inside. Oh, he was so hot and tight. His walls were about ready to sever his finger right off. However, it was delectable. There was no way he’d been fucked any time recently. He couldn’t wait to be inside him.

            For a while, he manoeuvred his finger inside of him, building all the way up to three of them. Fenris moaned and writhed on them, his cock throbbing and a light dribble of ejaculate spilling out in a light stream every time he pressed hard on his sensitive prostate. He was perfect.

            “Please, Hawke, just fuck me,” Fenris rasped eventually.

            “Demanding,” Hawke teased, a smirk tugging on his lips. He pulled his fingers out of him with a wet pop and cleaned them off with a tissue. Then, he reached for one of the pillows and positioned it under Fenris’s hips. “Comfy?”

            “Yes,” Fenris nodded once more.

            Hawke swallowed roughly. “Okay.”

            He positioned his cock at his hole and licked his lips. All of this was so surreal. Here he was, he’d just taken this mostly-stranger home as a gesture of kindness, and now he was about to fuck him on his couch. A part of him doubted that Fenris was truly in danger, and he had been too shy to ask for a fuck. No, that couldn’t be, he had been so bold about his desires when they were alone in his place together. That was more than enough dallying though. Fenris wanted to be fucked and he’d have to be saint to say no.

            It didn’t take long to push inside. Hawke let out a groan as he sheathed himself in gradually. He was just as hot and tight as he had been around his finger, and the raw sensations of fucking him without a condom were sure to push him over the edge before he was ready.

            “Big,” Fenris mumbled amongst the gasps he was uttering with every inch Hawke pressed further inside. Hawke was flattered, of course, but couldn’t help but muffle a little laugh at the comment.

            He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Fenris’s neck, just under his jaw, and gripped his hips tightly. Fenris’s legs squeezed his sides and Maker, Hawke couldn’t help but notice just how powerful his legs were. If this turned out to be anything more than a one-night stand, he told himself he’d have those strong thighs around his face some day. The chances of this being more than a fling, however? Unlikely. He continued to pound into Fenris with vigour, picking up his speed until he found a pace that Fenris enjoyed, judging simply off his moans and pleas.

            It was hard not to be distracted by the noises in the air, and the sound of their hips colliding, but Hawke had some investigating to do still. He kept kissing down Fenris’s neck, eyes roving for any signs of a bite. Fenris squirmed under him a little but didn’t complain. Hawke thought he saw a glimmer of a bite scar, a little white mark, but it was hard to tell. Fenris’s entire body was covered in those same faint, glimmering white lines. It was truly unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The scar blended in with one of the lines, so it was too ambiguous to tell whether there was truly a bite there or not. Maker, this was confusing.

            Granted, it was hard to focus in this situation. Fenris was clawing at his back and moaning. Perhaps if he could just feel the mark he found. He slid his hand up from his hip to find his neck, but before he could quite reach it, Fenris pushed his shoulders back and straddled him. It was a miracle he didn’t slip free. Fenris was in his lap now, taking control of the situation, and slamming his body down on him. Hawke gasped at the contact but didn’t complain. He couldn’t help but wonder if Fenris knew what he was up to and was preventing him from investigating. It could wait, he supposed, and he focused on helping Fenris find the right angle that would have him seeing stars again.

            Hawke reached for Fenris’s cock, finding it hard and dripping precum with every thrust into his prostate, and helped him along. Fenris whined, tilting his head back and rolling his hips with every downward motion. He was close, so close he could taste it.

            “I…” he started but didn’t finish as he gasped and moaned. He spilt into Hawke’s hand, hot and white. Hawke continued to pound into him, moving his body like a ragdoll until he met his own ends. He cried out as he finished inside him, not even thinking to ask, and panted in time with Fenris’s own breathing.

            His body tingled all over from the intense orgasm, his cock softening inside Fenris. He didn’t stop Fenris when he leaned his forehead against his shoulder, but in hindsight, he should have. Fenris’s leaning turned into a slow rise of his head, to the nestling of his face against the crook of his neck. Then, the sharp sting of teeth.

            Hawke pushed Fenris back against the couch, making him yelp in surprise. His cock had been suddenly pulled free of him, and Fenris stared up at him wide-eyed. Hawke’s suspicions had been right. Two big, shining teeth hung out from Fenris’s mouth, his eyes glazed over with black. Vampire. It didn’t solve the mystery as to why he smelled so much like a human though.

            “You won’t get a meal from me,” Hawke told him warningly as Fenris reached for him again, only to be put down again by Hawke’s hand on his bare chest. “It won’t taste good.”

            To prove his point, he bared his own teeth, letting his vampire fangs form and his eyes darken. Usually, the scent was enough to tell Hawke that he was in the presence of another vampire, but Fenris was clearly an outlier. Something wasn’t right about him.

            “This was a ruse then? Seduce me so you could feed?” he asked, slowly letting his features retract as Fenris remained still under him.

            “A man is most vulnerable immediately following climax,” Fenris said.

            Hawke couldn’t help but laugh at that. It wasn’t a bad plan, he supposed, but there were some clear flaws in it. Such as, Fenris had somehow not worked out that he wasn’t human. There was no use trying to feed from a vampire. Not that it wasn’t possible, as the blood drawn had to come from somewhere, but it was old and unsatisfying. Nothing could compare to the taste of hot, fresh human blood.

            “That’s got to be a dangerous game you’re playing. How much has that worked for you?” Hawke replied.

            Fenris’s eyes darted to the side. “You’re the first.”

            “The first?” Hawke’s voice softened. He slowly released his hold on Fenris’s chest and pulled back from him so he could pull his knees up to his chest. “Don’t tell me you’re newly turned. You could’ve fooled me, I want to know that trick you’ve come up with that makes you smell human. But seriously, did the vampire who turned you seriously just leave you out in the cold like this? You should’ve been taught how to feed.”

            “It’s none of your business,” Fenris said, tightening his grip on his knees.

            Guilt pooled in Hawke’s stomach as he smiled sadly. He’d gotten himself into a real mess here. He shouldn’t have had sex with him, Fenris’s priorities were all wrong. Trust him to think with his dick, it  _had_ been a while since he’d last had sex. He remembered what he was like when he was first turned, by his father, before the hunters had gotten to him and his sister. His father had guided him through everything, taught him everything he needed to know. The hunger for blood he had felt then was insatiable, he would’ve done anything to get it. So, he understood how Fenris felt, even if he didn’t have all the answers yet.

            “Put your clothes back on. I’m going to get you something, it’ll help,” he told him, picking up some of Fenris’s clothes that had been abandoned on the floor and throwing them to him. Fenris caught them and watched him with concern as he got up from the couch, slipped on some boxers, and wandered off.

            Hawke half-expected Fenris to be gone by the time he got back. He seemed the skittish type. However, Hawke’s biggest weakness was his big heart. There was no way he could just leave Fenris like that, vulnerable, afraid, and very hungry. He reached into his freezer and pulled out one of the preserved blood bags.

            He was surprised to see Fenris still sat there, fully dressed again now, on his couch.

            “I hope you like O positive,” he said, handing the blood bag to Fenris.

            Fenris took the blood bag and stared down at it for a moment. He glanced up at Hawke, who gave him a nod, and then ripped open the bag to drink. Hawke watched, satisfied, as he consumed the lot, blood dripping from his chin. Hungry indeed. Fenris took a deep breath once he finished and wiped the excess with the back of his hand.

            “Where did you… get this?” he asked.

            Hawke bit back any snarky remark he had about Fenris inquiring about his life when he wouldn’t tell him anything about his. “My friend is a nurse. She works with blood, you know when people go to donate and stuff. She takes some of the supply for me and for her friends. Though, she can only take so much without suspicion, so sometimes I go a bit hungry. It’s okay though, it’s better than the alternative.”

            “The alternative?”

            “Attacking people, killing innocents for blood.”

            Fenris looked down at the floor. Hawke walked over to sit next to him on the couch.

            “I can’t in good conscience throw you out if you’re newly turned. Clearly, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m offering to help you, keep you fed. I would’ve wanted someone to do the same for me,” he explained. It would make total sense if Fenris wanted to run for the hills. He was still a stranger, but he would make the most of any trust Fenris put in him.

            “And what would you want?” Fenris asked.

            Hawke blinked owlishly at him. “What would I want? I don’t want anything. Just the company would be nice, someone to look after my dog while I’m at work. I’d also love it if you could show me that smelling human trick, but you don’t owe me anything, alright? No more sex either. I feel bad enough about what I did.”

            “You have a dog?” Fenris continued to question him, turning his head to look at him. He was digging his fingers in to the material of his jeans and trembling slightly. Afraid, no doubt.

            “Yeah! His name’s Biscuit. I’ve been working some long shifts the last few days, so he’s been staying with my younger brother, Carver. Are you okay with dogs?” he asked.

            “I’ve never…”

            “Biscuit is nice, I promise. He loves people. So, is that… a yes?”

            Fenris took another long, deep breath.

            “I suppose so,” he said.


	2. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Hawke begin getting used to living together but there's an incident at the clinic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an early post for FAM2k18 for Day 9: AUs! :)  
> also sorry for not posting for like 2 months nfhfns im supposed to be doing uni work rn lol
> 
> enjoy!

In his life, Hawke had gone through many different roommates. From living with his family to friends that came and went from his life. He was a sponge for company, even despite the risks. Working night shifts allowed him to subtly subvert any abnormality about his unusual sleep cycles – sleeping in the day, awake all night. It wasn’t like he could advertise for a fellow vampire as a roommate on craigslist, no one would take him seriously.

            When he asked Fenris, a newly turned vampire, to be his new roommate, he considered himself prepared for just about anything, given his past experiences. However, Fenris proved to be the best roommate he’d ever had, and it turned out he need not worry after all. He was quiet, perhaps a little unnervingly so, cleaned up after himself, and even seemed to get along with Biscuit. Not that it was easy to get on the bad side of that big loveable dog, of course, but he usually was a good judge of character. It was everything he wanted in a roommate, though he supposed he could stand to be a little more sociable. Fenris would make an excellent house husband, he thought to himself, should it ever happen to him. If he could pay the same gentleness to a child that he did with Biscuit, he would do just fine.

            It was best not to get too caught up in thoughts of domesticity, for he could feel his cheeks burning the more he pictured it. Fenris, beautiful Fenris, sat with an equally cute baby in his arms – gentle eyes and a soft smile. He was losing his mind, wasn’t he? It couldn’t be helped. When you’ve lived for hundreds of years and none of your own created family to be had, it got a little lonely. Fenris just so happen to be the victim of these fantasies this time, given their recent intimacy. It wasn’t like their predicament had suddenly made Fenris unattractive.

            When he arrived home after a long shift at the bar, he found Fenris sat on his couch. Biscuit was resting his head on his lap, making happy grunting noises as Fenris scratched behind his ears. A smile spread over Hawke’s face as he shut the door behind him and locked up.

            “You two have been getting along well,” he said, throwing the keys on the stand beside the door. Fenris looked up at him, staring like a deer in headlights and a tinge of pink on his cheek. “I’m glad. I think Biscuit misses having someone to spoil him while I’m not home.”

            “He is… amicable,” Fenris replied, shifting his gaze back to the dog curled up beside him.

            Hawke laughed and threw himself down on the couch beside them. There was barely enough room for all three of them. He leaned his arm around the back of the couch, a faint imitation of wrapping his arms around Fenris’s shoulders without actually touching him. Those images of Fenris and a baby were seeping back into his mind. Ridiculous. What was he, a brooding mother?

            “You’re not bored here, are you? I’ve noticed that you’ve been cleaning up this place. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Hawke said.

            “It Is fine, it’s what I’m used to. Besides, it’s not like there is… much I can do when it is light out,” Fenris shook his head.

            Hawke cocked an eyebrow. “Well I imagine you spend most of it sleeping like I do but don’t you have… you know, like a ring? It’s a standard thing, lets you go out in the sun without burning to a crisp. The vampire who turned you should have…”

            He trailed off, quickly remembering that the vampire who turned Fenris had not taught him a thing. If he didn’t tell him how to feed for survival, it was reasonable to assume that he also gave him nothing to protect him from the sun.

            “You know what, that’ll be my next thing to do. I’ll get you a ring,” Hawke interrupted himself.

            “You don’t have to do that,” Fenris said. He pressed his lips together tightly and focused his gaze on the carpeted floor under his feet. Hawke felt a pang of sorrow in his chest. He felt guilty, didn’t he? For taking from him?

            “I already told you that you don’t owe me anything. I told you I’d help you so long as you stayed here with me. This is helping,” Hawke tried his best to reassure him. He wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, but he held back. The last thing he wanted to breach boundaries that would scare him off. Fenris was in a precarious position, one in which if he was left to his own devices outside of this place, he would end up dead or worse.

            Luckily, Biscuit seemed to huff in agreement.

            “I cannot stop you,” Fenris said eventually. “But promise me you will not suddenly ask for more.”

            Hawke shot him a toothy grin as he put his hand on his heart. “I swear on my father’s grave, Maker grant him rest, and on my very, very dead heart.”

            For the first time, Fenris let out a small exhale that could be mistaken for laughter, a slight smile on his face. The butterflies in Hawke’s stomach reached a crescendo, their wings leaving behind intense tingles in their wake. He could have come back to life just to die again at the sight and sound. Scratch the ring, his next big mission was to make Fenris laugh again.

            “Thank you,” Fenris mumbled.

 

Hawke left his shift at the bar early the next day. He called in Isabela to cover for him, so he could make it to Varric’s before sunrise. After all, he always hated when he called on him after dawn. Varric was an old friend, one of the first he made once he turned and after he lost his father. He was a renowned author, one that kept changing his pen name over the years, as to avoid any suspicion. A loyal publishing house meant that his secret was safe. On top of his writing business, Varric always ran a small pawn shop on the edge of Kirkwall. Only those in his very exclusive inner circle knew about his “other” wares.

            “Varric! My lovely, trustworthy little man, how good it is to see you,” Hawke threw his arms in the air as he strolled into the small shop, a big smile on his face.

            “Hawke,” Varric replied, turning around at the register to see his friend. If there was anything that stood out about Varric, besides his meagre height and obvious charms, it was the low-cut V-neck shirts he wore that revealed an indecent amount of blossoming chest hair. Had Hawke not had his own copious amount of hair, he would have felt a little intimidated at his display. “It is good to see you too. What are you here for, kid?”

            Hawke marched over to the register and put his arms on the countertop, leaning in close to Varric. “You wound me, presuming that I want something and am not just here to see my favourite pawn shop owner.”

            “Ah, you don’t fool me Hawke. Now come on, spit it out, I have to close up shop soon. Sunrise is coming,” Varric said.

            It was all in jest, but Hawke knew that Varric could read anybody. Had he the effort, he would’ve made an excellent spy. He knew the ins and outs of everything that went on in Kirkwall, nothing went under his nose. Well, apparently almost nothing.

            “I need another Dawn ring,” Hawke told him in a hushed tone. Varric raised his eyebrows, eyes flickering down to Hawke’s hands before settling back on his face.

            “I take it you didn’t lose yours. What for?” he asked.

            Hawke had come in here knowing he was going to have to talk about Fenris. The two of them had made any promises about whether or not he was allowed to reveal his identity to anyone. He trusted Varric though. There was no way he would go around and tell people about Fenris.

            “I’ve taken in a newly turned vampire. He needs one,” Hawke said. He would avoid telling him Fenris’s name for now.

            “A newly turned vampire huh?”

            “He was turned and left for dead. Or he escaped. I’m not sure. Either way, he’s on his own and he needs help. I’ve offered to help.”

            “Does he happen to have a pretty face too?”

            “ _Varric_.”

            Varric gave a hearty laugh. Hawke let out a puff of exasperation, leaning back to straighten up and folding his arms over his chest. Telling him that he’d taken Fenris home for it to end up in a one-night stand would only make his point. Being gay limited his options by a substantial amount, but it was only furthered by his swimming guilt of taking advantage of a human. He was far too nice to be an effective vampire.

            “Don’t worry about it, just stay safe, okay? You’re lucky I still have some,” Varric said. He strolled to the door at the back of his shop, disappearing behind it for a few minutes. Hawke drummed his fingers on the counter as he waited. When Varric returned, he slid a ring across the counter. “Make sure he takes good care of it. These things aren’t easy to get.”

            “I will,” Hawke replied. He tucked the ring in his pocket and slid the cash back over to Varric.

            The two waved to each other before Hawke left. Fenris would likely be asleep by the time he got back but he was still excited to give him his present.

 

“Fenris!” Hawke grinned as he emerged from his bedroom to see Fenris shuffling out of the bathroom. The orange glow of the sunset was peeking through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the spots of shining white in Fenris’s hair even despite it being soaking wet. He was dressed sloppily in an oversized shirt (borrowed from Hawke) and a pair of joggers.

            Regardless of the fact that he had just left the shower, Fenris looked tired. Ruffled hair, sleepy eyes, hunched over. It was likely that he hadn’t quite adjusted to his new sleep cycles yet, being a new vampire. Hawke licked his lips as that jittery butterfly feeling in his stomach reverberated through his body. Cute. Very cute.

            “I have a gift for you,” he told him, marching on over to him. “Would you mind closing your eyes for me? And putting your hands out?”

            Fenris pressed his lips tightly together, looking Hawke up and down with concern. Hawke could see the hesitance as he slowly shut his eyes and put his hands outstretched towards him. Smiling to himself, Hawke took the ring out of his pocket and took one of Fenris’s hands. He slipped the ring on his index finger until it settled just above his knuckle.

            “You can open them now,” he said.

            Once they fluttered open, Fenris’s eyes immediately darted towards his hands and he spied the ring on his finger. His cheeks blossomed into a deep shade of red, jaw agape. In fact, his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t even think whether he should be throwing the ring to the floor or not. With it on, he felt… different. Changed somehow. Hawke quickly stepped in before he managed to get any words out.

            “I promised you a ring, didn’t I? It’s a Dawn ring, it’ll let you go out in the sun,” Hawke explained. He held up his hand that had a similar looking ring on his own index finger. “I have one too, see?”

            “Oh,” Fenris said slowly. At the realisation that Hawke had promised him a gift and had then gone and made good on it, his shoulders began to relax. “You didn’t have to…”

            “I know, I know. We had this conversation already. Just take it,” Hawke said. He smiled at him, open and cheesy, hoping that it would help him to settle.

            Fenris rubbed his fingers over the ring, feeling each swirly engraving on its sides. It was a beautiful silver colour, contrasting with the deep tones of his skin. He was amazed that Hawke had managed to get him a ring that fit his hand perfectly, though it soon hit him that no one had truly given him a gift without expecting the world in return from him. Hawke had assured him multiple times that he didn’t want anything more from him than just his presence in his home, but it was still hard to swallow.

            “I will find some way to repay you for your kindness,” he said. When Hawke opened his mouth to reply, Fenris put one finger up to silence him. “You ask me not to protest, you will not protest either. I would _like_ to do this. I just… haven’t figured out how I am going to do it yet.”

            Hawke took a moment to simply look at him. Beyond that defensive exterior, Fenris had a softer side. He could tell.

            “I suppose you’re right,” he said.

 

Given his long shifts at the bar at night, Hawke slept through most of the day. He’d always been a heavy sleeper, much to the bane of the rest of his family over the years. Carver frequently complained about the snoring when they lived together, even taking to stuffing things in his open mouth when he got the opportunity. He deserved it though, if only for the time he put neon pink hair dye in his shampoo. These were memories he recalled fondly. Biscuit sometimes slept at the end of the bed, taking naps during the day. He felt sorry for the dog often. His natural sleeping patterns were all messed up because of him. However, even despite Hawke’s deep sleeps, there was always one thing that would wake him: the sound of Biscuit’s barking.

            Like most dogs, Biscuit barked whenever someone came in the front door, or even knocked on it. Hawke heard him barking when he unlocked the front door to come home from his bar shift. It made for the occasional disturbance when people tried to come sell him things during the daytime, but he quickly remedied that with just a simple sign on his door. So, when Hawke was woken up midday by the sound of Biscuit’s barking, he awoke confused.

            Yawning, Hawke pushed himself out of bed. He ran his fingers through his mussed dark hair, disgruntled at the idea of having to deal with anyone at this time of day. However, when he padded out of his bedroom in just a pair of pyjama bottoms, he was surprised to see that it was just Fenris. He was carrying shopping bags and attempting to shush Biscuit as he locked the door.

            “Fenris?” Hawke asked, cocking an eyebrow. This was the first time Fenris had used his newfound ability to go out in the daytime, huh? And he’d used it to… what? Go shopping? It was peculiar indeed.

            “Hawke. I did not mean to wake you,” Fenris immediately apologised.

            It shouldn’t have surprised him that Fenris might want to get out of the house during the day now that he could. This was a man who had been human for most of his life, or so he assumed, and wasn’t used to the new sleep cycles. That didn’t explain why he had decided to go shopping or where he even got the money to go.

            “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just wondering what you got there,” Hawke said, gesturing to the shopping bags.

            Fenris looked down at the bags in his hands and then walked over to the kitchen counter. Hawke followed him, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled along. Fenris began unloading the items in the bags, revealing themselves to be baking ingredients. Familiar ones, indeed.

            “You left a shopping list on the fridge, I thought I might… get out and get them for you. Is that a problem?” Fenris asked.

            “Huh? No, that’s… that’s fine, I guess. I have to ask though, where did you get the money for this?” Hawke countered with another question.

            Fenris pressed his lips tightly together and cast a gaze towards the floor. “I did not steal from you, if that is what you mean. When I… escaped the man who turned me, I took a sum of cash from him to aid my escape.”

            “Oh,” Hawke said flatly. That meant that Fenris could’ve stayed in a hotel if he wanted to after all. He purposefully chose to go home with him, to sleep with him, because he wanted to feed. There was a chance he may have disappeared into the night once he’d had his fill. However, he had ended up stuck here, as his only source of help. There was one other thing on Hawke’s mind though. “I don’t suppose this man is going to want that money back?”

            “…Perhaps. I do not wish to get you involved if that day comes. I would deal with it myself. I have troubled you enough,” Fenris said, shaking his head.

            Hawke didn’t know who this vampire was, but there was clearly something amiss with him. He wanted to believe that Fenris had a good reason for running from him. There was still no telling whether Fenris had simply ran before he had gotten training or there was something else at play here.

            “Also, I was unaware that vampires ate human food?” Fenris continued, staring at the items of food on the counter.

            At that, Hawke laughed softly. “Well, there’s nothing stopping us. We can still digest human food so long as we have enough people blood in our system. But you don’t _need_ to. It’s more like a reminder of past delights, from when we were human. Some foodies find it hard to give up, you know? Will never taste as good as fresh blood though, and most foodies prefer their meat to sweet delights.”

            “Are you… someone who wishes for _sweet delights_ then, Hawke?” Fenris asked.

            “It’s not for me, actually. My friend Merrill is a nurse. You remember the one I told you about, who works with blood? And before you ask, she’s not a vampire. In fact, she was outed from her family for her sympathies and dalliances with us vampire-kind. Because she steals blood for me and I bake her cookies as thanks. It’s small but she refuses to take any money from me,” Hawke explained.

            Merrill was a sweet girl, even if he thought her a little strange. He had asked her time and again why she decided to risk her safety for vampires, but she simply assured him that she had her reasons. If there was one thing he appreciated, it was that she was always a ray of positivity. He had been meaning to bake this cookies and see her for a few days as his blood supply was diminishing quicker than ever with Fenris around.

            “It probably wouldn’t hurt to start now, I could have them done before nightfall and then I could see Merrill. You want to help?” he asked, padding over to a hook on the wall so he could pull off one of the aprons there. He tied it around his waist with ease.

            “You want me to help you bake?” Fenris asked.

            “Sure, why not? It could be fun. Have you ever baked anything before?” Hawke moved over to stand beside Fenris in front of the counter. Fenris shook his head at him. “It’s never too late to learn, I’ll show you.”

            Once Fenris had put on an apron as well, Hawke began showing Fenris step by step the process to make chocolate chip cookies. Fenris was a quick learner, something he noticed immediately as he began taking his own initiative in the baking process. That or he was just a natural baker. Both were equally impressive. He probably thought that Hawke didn’t notice him eyeing the cookie dough before it was placed in the oven, but nothing escaped Hawke’s gaze in the kitchen.

            Hawke placed the cookies in the oven and set the time. He put his hands on his hips and turned to Fenris with a grin. They had successfully baked a batch of cookies together.

            “Hey, you got a bit of uh…” Hawke said, reaching his thumb out. Fenris flinched but reluctantly allowed Hawke to remove some flour from his nose. His cheeks bloomed pink and he drew his eyes away from Hawke. “Sorry.”

            “It’s fine,” Fenris mumbled.

            Awkward silence fell over them as they waited for the cookies to finish baking in the oven. Fenris helped Hawke clean up the counters diligently. It was almost unnerving how well practiced at it Fenris seemed to be. He moved swiftly through the kitchen, every last bit of mess swiped away efficiently. Soon enough, the oven beeped at them and Hawke quickly removed the tray of cookies.

            “I’m going to get dressed. Can you put those cookies in a container? Merrill always likes them warm,” Hawke said, pulling off his apron and waving to Fenris as he disappeared down the hallway.

            It had been getting much colder as of late. Not that it made too much of a difference to him, vampires were naturally fairly cold. However, if he wanted to maintain a normal human appearance, he had to dress appropriately. Hawke shrugged on a shirt and jacket, as well as some blue jeans and a pair of boots. Then he shot Merrill a text to let her know he was coming. She replied almost instantly with a series of cute little emojis.

            He couldn’t help being a little excited to have Fenris meet Merrill. It would be good for him to have some kind of contacts if he was going to establish a new life as a vampire. Merrill may even be able to help him out with blood supply if he ever decided to leave his home. Something about that left Hawke’s heart feeling hollow. He was just getting used to having Fenris in his home and he didn’t fancy the idea of being all on his own again. With a sigh, he wrapped a light, red scarf around his neck and headed back towards the kitchen to see that Fenris had successfully placed the cookies into a container.

            However, he was running his finger under some cold water.

            “Hey, what are you doing?” Hawke asked.

            “I burnt my finger on the tray,” Fenris said calmly.

            … _And what of it?_ Hawke wanted to say. He walked over to Fenris and noticed that there was a bright red mark from where he had caught his skin on the oven tray. That was bizarre. If there was anything that vampires were known for beyond their insatiable bloodlust, it was their efficient healing ability. There were only a few ways that vampires could be killed, allowing their otherwise immortality to be effective. Major wounds sometimes took a few days to completely recover from, but minor ones like a burn from an oven tray would normally gone in seconds. Why was Fenris’s burn still there?

            “That’s… I don’t understand,” Hawke said. He reached out to take Fenris’s burnt hand and examined his finger up close. It didn’t take Fenris long to swipe his hand out of his grasp. “Fenris, you know that us vampires we don’t… that stuff heals immediately.”

            “I was only recently turned,” Fenris said, staring with concern at his own finger.

            “I know but that… that doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t… Oh this is so weird. First, you smell like a human, now you don’t heal like one. But I’ve _seen_ your teeth and you drink blood like nobody’s business. It doesn’t make any sense!” Hawke babbled. He was trying his best to make sense of it all in his head, but he couldn’t come to any logical conclusion as to why this was happening.

            Fenris didn’t have anything to contribute, evidently. He just kept staring at his finger with a mix of concern and confusion.

            “Oh whatever, we’ll worry about this later. Let’s uh, go give Merrill these cookies, huh?” Hawke suggested. He laughed a little but the ingenuity of it was obvious. Fenris didn’t seem to pay any mind. He simply nodded and followed Hawke out the door.

 

The clinic wasn’t too far away. It was easy to find Merrill as she was outside, evidently on her break. She grinned at Hawke, waving her hand high in the air. What little of her black hair was tied back into a small ponytail and she was dressed in a clean pair of scrubs.

            “Hawke! I see you’ve brought goodies! Oh, I’m so excited. Who’s your friend?” she said, as chipper as ever, when Hawke and Fenris approached her.

            “Hey Merrill. This is Fenris, he’s uh… a newbie. I’m taking him under my wing for a while, at least until he can stand on his own two feet. It’s why uh, I’d like as much supply as you can give. There’s two to feed,” Hawke explained, gesturing to Fenris stood next to him.

            The cheeriness immediately dropped from Merrill’s face. She looked stricken, as if someone had told her that everyone she knew and loved had just died in a horrific way. Something was definitely wrong. Behind her was a small basket and she handed it to Hawke.

            “I’m sorry Hawke. I wish I could help more but it’s… only a small amount. I got all I could but there’s been this guy here all week. He’s the head of one of the hospitals nearby and he’s been watching all of us so closely. Everyone’s been on edge,” Merrill explained. “Please take this though. I’ll try to get more to you soon, I promise.”

            Hawke looked down at the basket, lifting one of the lids to take a quick peek inside. This wasn’t even half the amount he usually received from Merrill. This would be enough for maybe a week, at most, and that was just for one of them. He took a deep breath and put on his best smile.

            “It’s okay. Just don’t get yourself into any bother because of me, alright?” Hawke said. He reached out and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Take the cookies anyway.”

            “Oh, thank you! You’re always so sweet to me,” Merrill said, the smile quickly returning to her face.

            Hawke figured he would have to explain the problem to Fenris when they got home. But before he and Merrill could make any more idle small talk, Fenris grabbed Hawke’s arm. His fingers dug into the material of his jacket.

            “Whoa, Fenris,” he said, looking over at him and noticing the alarmed expression on Fenris’s face. His eyes were wide, lips slightly parted, his whole body beginning to tremble. Hawke followed his gaze to see a man in the window of the clinic. He wasn’t looking towards the window, instead talking to one of the young male nurses inside. His hair was completely grey, tied back into a ponytail, and he wore a long white jacket. Most likely the man that Merrill was referring to.

            “Hawke, we have to go,” Fenris’s voice was hoarse, panicked.

            Hawke blinked wildly. Fenris’s grip only tightened as he almost collapsed, his body going into shutdown as he began to hyperventilate.

            “Merrill, we’ll catch up later,” Hawke said, wrapping an arm around Fenris and helping him back upright. Merrill looked equally concerned, her eyebrows furrowed.

            “He’s having a panic attack, I can help I—” Merrill began.

            “No! I want to…  I need to go,” Fenris interrupted.

            “I think it’s best I just take him home, thank you for all your help,” Hawke said, shaking his head at Merrill. She frowned but nodded.

            Fenris could walk. Hawke kept his arm around him as they stumbled home. He sat Fenris down on the couch when they arrived and rushed to retrieve him a glass of water. There was no way he could drink it right now, but once he calmed down a little, it would be good for him. He sat next to him, wrapping an arm around him again and letting him cling onto him like a lifeline.

            After the death of his father, Hawke was all too familiar with panic attacks. He’d had his own fair share, especially in the middle of the night when the nightmares of vampire hunters slaughtering his whole family and coming for him next would plague him. Whoever that man was in the clinic, he triggered something horrible in Fenris. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was the man who turned him, the one he ran from. That was the only person he knew of that Fenris had spoken of negatively.

            Those questions could be left for later. For now, he kept rubbing Fenris’s shoulders and reminded him how to breathe: In through the nose, out through the mouth. As he began to settle, he shushed his hiccups and assured him that he was safe here. When Fenris fell silent, he shuffled out of Hawke’s grasp.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled. His voice was still scratchy and rough from all the breathing issues and crying. He rubbed his eyes frustratedly, eyebrows furrowed.

            “It’s okay. Everything will be alright. Here, I got you some water,” Hawke said. He picked up the glass of water from the coffee table and handed it to him.

            Fenris mumbled his gratitude and took a long sip of water. Hawke watched him carefully, making sure he didn’t quickly fall into relapse. His hands were still shaking violently, but that was to be expected.

            “I didn’t mean to burden you or… ruin your meeting with Merrill. I couldn’t be there,” Fenris said after a few moments of silence. “I couldn’t…”

            “You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to Fenris. Take your time,” Hawke said. He wanted to pull him into another hug, but he had a feeling that it would only embarrass him further.

            Fenris took another long sip. He put the water back on the coffee table and buried his hands in his lap. “No, it’s better if you knew what’s going on. Now that I know he’s… That man… He… I should start from the beginning.”

            “Okay,” Hawke said.

            Fenris took a deep breath.


	3. Still Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris recounts the events that led up to him becoming a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW im so sorry for the delay, it's been a while since ive updated or even posted at all really. i hope you'll forgive me with this almost 10k chapter :P
> 
> minor warnings for mentions of rape and grooming & all that icky stuff involved with danarius.
> 
> enjoy!

He counted the coins in his hand as he stood outside the store, silently hoping that if he squeezed them hard enough, they’d multiply. His mother had sent him here with them, weakly explaining that he was to buy food with the scraps they had. However, he knew that if he didn’t spend most of it on medicine, his mother wouldn’t make it much longer. Him and his sister could go without eating much for a few days. Without mother’s medicine though, he knew that she wouldn’t make it much longer.

            His beat-up shoes squeaked from the dampness of the rain when he walked inside. He made his way to the pharmacy and shakily slid the coins across the counter. The clerk looked at him dubiously, taking in his appearance.

            “For my mother,” he said confidently, squaring his shoulders in hopes it might make him look older.

            The clerk cocked an eyebrow but said nothing more and handed over the bag containing the medicine he had requested. He snatched it up with a polite nod and a quick “thank you”.

            As he scurried away from the counter, he looked down at his hand. In there sat one single coin. Mother was going to be mad with him when he came back, but he didn’t care. Her health was what mattered most. She couldn’t leave him to look after his sister all on his own, it wasn’t fair. Where would he even get money from? The only reason their family had gotten this far was because mother left them alone to see strange men from time to time.

            He wandered the store, looking at the numbers on the items on the shelves. What could he afford? What would keep them alive? He stared down at the bunches of apples. With this coin, he could get two. One for him and his sister, one for his mother. She needed to eat more after all, she was bigger and fighting off something nasty. He could use his pocket knife to cut the apple into smaller pieces for his little sister. Apples were yummy, and his mother always said it was important to eat healthy. So, he picked up two of the apples and made his way to the till.

            On the way there, he stopped briefly to look at the toys. His sister’s doll had fallen apart recently and there was nothing they could do about it. His heart ached at how she had cried, big fat tears rolling down her rosy cheeks as their mother held her and promised that she’d work extra hard to get her a new one. He and his mother both knew that wouldn’t be any time soon, if at all. His sister had had that doll since before they’d been kicked out after all.

            He pursed his lips together, eyebrows furrowed, and wished he could do this nice thing for his sister, to see her smile again. When his sister was happy, so was his mother. When they were both happy, so was he.

            “You look a little old to be playing with dolls,” a man beside him said. He turned to look at him and frowned. Deep inside, he knew he shouldn’t be talking to strangers, but the words left his lips before he thought too hard about it.

            “Not for me, my little sister,” he said.

            The man chuckled and reached out to take one of the dolls off the shelf. “Is this the one she likes?”

            He stared at the doll he was holding. It looked very similar to the broken one his sister had. He nodded slowly, gaze shifting to the basket full of food and supplies the man was holding, then back up to his face.

            “I couldn’t make a little girl sad now, could I?” the man said, tucking the doll under his arm. “Come on.”

            The man pinched the apples from his hold and walked away before he could say anything more. His mouth hung open for a moment and he hurried after him. He wanted those apples after all.

            Everything became clear once they reached the till. The man placed everything on the conveyer belt, from the apples to the doll to the supplies in his own basket. He could only watch as the cashier scanned them all through and the man put things into bags. The man paid for the items and then crouched before him.

            “Take these to your mother and sister,” he said. He handed him two bags and smiled wryly.

            He looked inside the bags slowly. The apples, the doll for his sister, but so much more too. There were crackers, cereal bars, fruit snacks, plenty of supplies to make sandwiches, water bottles, and things like wipes and band-aids too.

            “Really? For us?” he asked.

            “Of course. Hurry along now,” the man replied, patting him on the shoulder.

            He smiled wide and nodded, scurrying out of the store, bags in hand, and made his way back to his mother and his sister. What a kind man.

            Apparently, his mother didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. Her eyes went wide when she saw him approach with the bags.

            “Leto,” she said. “What have you got there?”

            “This kind man in the store bought us all these things to eat,” he said, settling down on the floor amongst all the cardboard and blankets. He began unloading the bags and presenting it before his family. Then he grinned and turned to his sister, Varania. “I got something for you too.”

            Varania watched him, a smile slowly taking over her face as Leto pulled out the doll. She giggled and hugged the box to her chest.

            “Doll!” She exclaimed.

            “I got your medicine too ma,” Leto said, taking the medicine he’d got from the pharmacy out and handing it to his mother. She took a long, deep breath.

            Shaking her head, she said: “Leto, we can’t have this.”

            “Why not?” he asked.

            His mother put her hands on his arms and pulled him closer, rubbing up and down as she looked him over with a sorrowful expression. Leto tilted his head in confusion, wondering what had gotten his mother so upset. She should be happy about this, they were going to eat for at least a week, maybe more. She got her medicine, Varania got a new doll. They would live another day. What wasn’t there to be happy about?

            “Please listen to me. What have I told you about talking to strange people on the street?” she said, squeezing his arm lightly.

            “Not to… But look at what he bought us ma! We’re going to eat for a week,” he stressed.

            His mother’s head lowered, suddenly unable to meet her son’s eyes. Leto frowned. He knew he’d broken the rules, but he couldn’t understand why this was so dire.

            “You can’t… You can’t trust anybody, _especially_ not strange men who offer to buy you things. You might think he’s doing you a kindness now, but what if he wants more later? What if he tries to take me from you, Leto? Or your sister?” his mother said.

            Leto couldn’t imagine life without his mother or sister. What would some guy have to gain from taking them away from him? It didn’t make any sense. He mirrored his mother, looking down at the floor now. His stomach twisted and turned at the thought of being alone.

            “It’s too late now but please don’t do it again, okay? I love you, both of you, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to us,” his mother said, noticing the way her son’s shoulders had drooped.

            “Does that mean we can keep the food? I promise, I won’t do it again,” Leto said quickly.

            His mother looked down at the bags of food. It _would_ be a shame for it all to go to waste. “I suppose.”

            He pushed himself into his mother’s arms, hugging her tightly and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. His mother wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back.

            “I love you too ma,” Leto mumbled.

 

However, Leto’s mother had been right. Whenever she disappeared with one of the men who came around, the man from the store often stopped by to leave bags of food and supplies, sometimes clothes and money, and most vitally, his mother’s medicine. Varania would hide behind her brother every time he stopped by. Leto stood his ground one time, said he didn’t want the man’s charity, but he simply laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair, then left. The whole family knew that they were in no position to throw away or waste the food. Sometimes it would linger there, before they eventually gave in when they only had copper coins to spare and it was going to be a long, cold night.

            It wasn’t until several years later as Leto turned the ripe age of fifteen that the man returned, this time while his mother was there. His hair and beard had been left to become completely grey but he still looked at the family with those piercing icy eyes. He held no bags of food or supplies.

            “What do you want?” Leto stepped in for his mother when she opened her mouth to speak but only coughing came out. His voice had significantly deepened since the first time he had met the man, no longer the squeaky little boy who had stared so wistfully at the dolls in the store. Shoulders broadened, though still skinny from the malnutrition, and not as tall as the average boy of his age.

            The future hadn’t been so kind to his mother. Her sickness had gotten worse over the years. It was amazing that she had lived as long as she had. Her love for her family was what kept her going, or that’s what she always said. She couldn’t see as many strange men, so the money was tighter than ever, and the man’s food drops truly became a lifeline for them.

            “I come with an offer,” he said. “I hear it is to snow tonight. Such icy weather, I have doubts that your mother will live through it.”

            Leto grit his teeth. He knew the medicine could only keep the sickness at bay and the harsh weather had been making her worse, but he refused to believe that she was going to leave them any time soon. His gaze shifted to look down at her, cradled in blankets with Varania by her side. He wouldn’t let this family be torn apart just yet.

            “What’s your offer?” he asked, fists clenched by his sides.

            “Leto…” his mother rasped before coughing again, prompting Varania to rub her back.

            The man’s smile grew until it touched his ears.

            “I live in a large estate,” he said and handed Leto a scrap of paper with an address scribbled on it. His reading skills weren’t the greatest, but he could make it out. “Bring your family. I have need of more kitchen staff,” he cast a glance towards Varania, then back to Leto. “As well as an able-bodied young man for the gardens. Your mother will be given private medical care, she will live as long as her body permits. You two work for me, I will give you a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear.”

            Leto stared at the scrap of paper. It was a good deal. He had lived on the streets for most of his life, he could hardly imagine what it’d be like to sleep in a warm bed, especially on nights such as the one to come. The most tempting offer was the care for his mother though. With this, she really stood a chance at living many more years.

            “You don’t have to answer me now,” the man continued, noticing Leto’s hesitation. “But if you end up on my doorstep, I will take you in.”

            With that, the man turned on his heels and strode away, leaving the family there to weigh their options. What were their lives worth?

            As the sun set, they talked it out. Leto wanted to go, and Varania agreed too. Their mother shook her head, her voice hoarse as she begged her children that enslaving themselves to a man like that was never worth the price. The children pleaded and pleaded and eventually, she gave in. If she were to die tonight, she could not leave this earthly plane knowing she had made her children upset. She could only hope that this didn’t end badly for them.

            That’s how they found themselves on the doorstep of a large estate. A mother and her two children wrapped in blankets. As soon as the man let them inside, he introduced himself properly as Danarius.

 

Working in the garden wasn’t so bad. In fact, Leto found himself quite enjoying being surrounded by all the plants and flowers. Many hadn’t survived the winter and needed to be dug up for they had outlived their due. It was easy to work with a nice brand-new winter jacket, lined with fleece that warmed his body, and a stomach full of hot food. He wasn’t paid for his work, but that didn’t matter. Danarius was paying for all his mother’s medical bills, she was away at some private hospital not too far away. He got to see her once a week, hold her hand, made sure she was being treated right.

            Truthfully, he didn’t see much of Varania either. He saw her in the evenings sometimes, when they passed each other in the halls before bed. Sometimes they saw each other when Varania brought him a leftover hot meal. She seemed content in the kitchen and got along with the other kitchen staff, or so she said. Leto wasn’t sure if she meant every word. However, he knew he couldn’t be picky. Danarius had given them both nice clothes, good food to eat, and a warm bed. He’d never slept so well in his life.

            By the time the following winter came, his mother had passed. The oncoming cold weather had been too much for her, even cosied up in the warm hospital. Danarius had allowed the two of them to have a day off to mourn while they buried her body. It was a small funeral, made up only of Leto, Varania, and Danarius himself. She wouldn’t have wanted a grandiose event with people crying left and right. Just her children would have been enough.

            In this time, Leto had come to see Danarius as a bit of a father figure. A strict one, nonetheless, but something he craved and never had. So, when Danarius took him into his arms, he accepted it gracefully, resting his cheek against his chest. He opted to ignore the suspicious glance Varania cast his way.

           

It was the coming summer in which everything was about to change. Leto was soon to turn seventeen and was still out working in the garden. The summer heat could be devastating to work in, more so than the winters. Tevinter wasn’t forgiving when it came to the beating sun. He had brought a couple water bottle with him to work but frequently found himself wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. It got to the point where his clothes were soaked. He glanced around the garden before pulling the t-shirt over his head and casting it aside.

            With the difficult part over, he began to water the flowers with the watering can. The water must be so cold, he thought, refreshing on the flowers. The sun was so hot and the drops would feel like little pricks of relief, cooling him, like laying in an ice bath. Before he thought too hard about it, he found himself pouring the watering can over his body.

            “What are you doing there, boy?” Danarius’s voice cut him out of his trance. He turned his head to see the man stood with his arms folded, eyebrow cocked, in the doorway of the estate, shielded by the shade.

            “Ah, nothing, I—” Leto began. “It was hot so…”

            Danarius simply rolled his eyes and gestured for him to go inside. “Go take a shower if you’re so bothered by the heat and want to mess around in some water. I want to talk to you.”

            “Y-Yes!” he exclaimed, nodding and putting the watering can down. He hurried inside the house as instructed, cheeks burning as he went.

            After the cool shower, Leto headed out of the bathroom to find Danarius. What could he possibly want to talk to him about? The possibilities circled his mind as he eventually found Danarius in the living room.

            “You wanted to talk to me,” he said, shuffling inside.

            “Come sit down here,” Danarius told him, patting the space on the luxurious sofa beside him. Leto nodded and came to sit beside him. Danarius’s eyes roved over him openly, taking in every inch of dark olive skin, the water droplets from his hair running down the length of his neck. “This is an important matter.”

            Leto stared back at him with big, green eyes. He nodded again, burying his hands in his lap as he focused his whole attention on him. A boy who would do anything for the man who raised him up off the streets.

            “You’ve grown into quite the handsome young man, you know that, don’t you?” Danarius said, reaching out to put his finger son Leto’s chin, and tilted his head back. “So much better than the scrawny little thing you were when I picked you up. Much nicer with all that muscle and meat on your bones.”

            Leto didn’t reply, eyes now darting up at the ceiling as his face was tilted backwards, forwards, left and right. Danarius was observing him, and he was going to let him do as he pleased. He would be nothing without Danarius. There was a good chance he might have been dead by now without him. He owed him everything.

            “There’s a reason I picked you up. I sensed something special in you, my boy,” Danarius continued. “It’s time you learnt the truth.”

            Danarius let go and Leto’s eyes snapped back to him. They widened as something monstrous seemed to happen. Two of Danarius’s teeth grew and grew until they slightly protruded from his mouth and his eyes darkened. Leto swallowed roughly and jumped back in his seat, scrambling towards the other end of the sofa.

            He wasn’t a fool. Leto had heard of vampires before, heard rumours of their existence and what they did to people, crawling through windows at night and draining every last drop of life essence from someone’s body. Now that he thought about it, Danarius’s skin was very pale and his ears slightly pointed. Not only that, when he was on the streets, he only came to them at night, when his mother was working. It was all adding up, yet his heart wouldn’t stop racing and threatening to leap from his chest any minute. What did this mean? Why was he showing him this?

            Was he about to be eaten?

            “Don’t fret now,” Danarius said, reaching out and grabbing Leto’s arm, pulling him towards him with a yelp. “This is what you were always made for, my little wolf. My _Fenris_.”

            “Please! Please, no. I don’t want to die, I don’t—” Leto began to babble, tears threatening to well up in his eyes like a wailing child.

            Danarius chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fenris. I won’t kill you. All I want is a taste. You wouldn’t leave me hungry, would you? After I fed your family for weeks, months, years?”

            “Will it… Will it hurt?” Leto asked. His whole body trembled in Danarius’s grasp, but he didn’t fight it.

            “Only a little. No more than the prick of a needle. Then you will feel very tired, but it’s fine. Take a nap, you will not have to work anymore,” Danarius assured him. “Just your close your eyes and tilt your head back.”

            Danarius’s stern gaze was worse than any pain that may come his way. Leto wasn’t sure whether he was telling the truth or not. There was still a chance he was being deceived and he was going to die right here, right now, leaving his sister behind to this monster of a man. If he refused, he was surely going to die, however. He knew his secret, he was a threat now. If he didn’t do what he said, what life did he have?

            Shakily, Leto closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He could feel Danarius’s hot breath over his neck, and then the prick of his teeth as he sunk into his flesh. It stung something rotten. Leto cried out, fingers reaching out and digging into the material of Danarius’s clothes.

            Strands of energy been clipped, fading away, pulled out of his body. The more Danarius drank, the weaker he felt. He immediately started to feel light-headed, nauseous, and he could no longer keep a firm hold on Danarius’s shirt. His arms swung by his sides uselessly. Unconsciousness overcame him.

           

When he woke, he was surrounded by darkness. Under him were comfy sheets and blankets – his bed. Leto sat up slowly. How long had he slept for? Beside his bed on the nightstand table was a couple of crackers and a glass of water. He was surprised to hear his own couple rumble, so he reached for the plate and glass and made his way through the contents.

            He rose out of bed and reached out to turn the light on. Out of his window, he could see the night sky. It had been morning when he was working in the garden. Had he really slept through the entire day? He stumbled towards the mirror and suddenly the stinging pain of where he’d been bitten came rushing back to him. A bandage had been placed over the bite wound on his neck. He reached up to touch the soft fabric but quickly jolted his hand back when he pressed down. It was sore still.

            Everything felt like a fever dream. Vampires were supposed to be stories told to scare children into behaving themselves, not in the presence of the man who took him in off the street. How was he supposed to live with this knowledge? There was no way he could ever leave now, not without killing Danarius first. He shook the thought away. There was no way he could do that. What if the traditional methods didn’t work? Where would he even get his hands on a stake or a bowl of holy water?

            At least Danarius hadn’t lied about one thing. He was alive. Only drank enough blood to make him pass out. A stirring gut feeling told him that this likely wasn’t going to be the last time this happened.

            When his stomach rumbled, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to go scouring the kitchen for more food. One needed to eat if he was going to recover from having that much blood sapped out of him. He tiptoed down the stairs, making sure to not let the floorboards creak too loud. A sigh escaped him once he felt his bare feet touch the cold tiled floor. He reached for the light and switched it on, only to see Varania stood the other end, nursing a glass of water.

            “Leto,” she said in a hushed tone, blinking owlishly at him. She put down her glass and marched towards him. “What’re doing up at this time of night?”

            “I’ve been sleeping all day. What are _you_ doing up at this time of night?” he replied.

            Varania frowned and looked down into her glass of water. “I couldn’t sleep.”

            Something was definitely wrong with his sister but he couldn’t seem to pinpoint what it was. In fact, the more he thought about it, she’d been acting strangely for a while now. He didn’t get to see her often enough to really enquire about it. However, before he could, she spoke up again.

            “What happened to your neck?” she asked, reaching out to touch the bandage on the side of his neck. Leto quickly slapped her hand away, taking a step back.

            What did he tell her? Panic flickered through his veins like a drained lightbulb. If she didn’t know about Danarius’s true form, he couldn’t tell her, he’d get in trouble. Danarius when he was angry was a sight that nobody wanted to be subjected to. Who knew what he’d do to him?

            “It’s nothing,” he said quickly. “Just a nick when I was working out in the garden. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

            Varania looked unconvinced, lips pressed tight against each other as she looked him up and down. However, if she suspected anything sinister, she didn’t say anything. Perhaps she knew better than to question it.

            “Be more careful. You’re my only family, I can’t have anything happen to you,” she said. She took a long sip from his glass of water and looked down at the floor. “Even if… I’m not here to see you.”

            Leto’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze snapped back to his sister. What was she talking like that for?

            “What? What do you mean?” he said.

            “Danarius didn’t tell you?” she asked. Leto shook his head. “I thought that’s why he… Never mind. It’s… not right for us to keep working unpaid like this, not now that mother is… mother is gone. Danarius offered to get me an internship with a woman who works in the bakery. I’ll be paid. I asked Danarius for you to come with me but he… he said no.”

            Leto’s fingers curled in and out of fists. Why was everything happening so suddenly? Why would he reveal to him that he was a vampire right when he was going to send his sister away? It didn’t make any sense. For one thing, he knew now that Varania definitely didn’t know.

            “So… are you going to take it? You should. It’s… good, honest work,” Leto said.

            He remembered fondly the days of curling up with his sister, doll in her hand, sleeping like angels on the hard, cold floor. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her. She would be better off at the bakery, where Danarius couldn’t feed from her too. Plus, having a real job would be good for her.

            “I’m going to go. I leave in a few days. I was going to talk to you tomorrow but…” Varania put her glass down on the countertop and reached out to take Leto’s hands in hers. “Please come with me. Run away from here. I met the woman at the bakery, she came to see me and see about taking me in. She’s nice. You’ll be happy.”

            “I can’t,” Leto said flatly, shaking his head. He slipped his hands free of Varania’s grasp. There was no way he could tell her the truth. He tried his best to put on a shaky smile. “I’m happy here Varania, I’ll be okay. Don’t make Danarius angry because of me. Go to the bakery.”

            Varania folded her arms over her chest. “You’ve always been so stubborn.”

            Leto laughed a little.

            “Yeah,” he said.

            Varania sighed and reached to finish off her glass of water. “The offer is still open. You have until I leave. If you decide not to come, promise me you’ll look after yourself Leto.”

            “I always have,” Leto said.

 

The fated day of Varania’s leaving steadily approached. He was permitted to say goodbye to her and the two siblings parted with a long hug. Leto watched her walk out the door with a nice middle-aged woman who put a careful hand on her back as she guided her out. When the door closed, the reality of being left alone in this house with a vampire quickly dawned on him.

            “Don’t look so forlorn, little wolf,” Danarius approached and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. It made his skin crawl, prickle with goose bumps. “I have a job opportunity for you too.”

            He couldn’t imagine what he’d be doing now. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that he’d been replaced for the garden work. There was another young boy out there now, who refused to speak to him. Danarius had initially told him it was temporary, until he had fully recovered, but it seemed like that was no longer the case. It was also unlikely that Danarius was about to send him away like he did with Varania.

            “What… is it?” he asked.

            “Come see me tonight and put some shoes on,” Danarius told him.

            The wait for eve seemed long indeed. Even though the house was full of almost just as many people, it felt lonely without Varania. None of the other staff talked to him much, though he was unsure why. It wasn’t like he made himself unfriendly or anti-social, it was _them_ who walked away from _him_.

            Regardless, he went to the effort of putting on some nice shoes when the sun set and set out to find Danarius. He found him by the coat rack next to the front door, sliding a jacket over his shoulders. When he caught sight of Leto, he gestured for him to come by his side.

            “Have you ever wondered what I do to afford this house, little wolf?” he asked.

            Was that a trick question? Truthfully, Leto had been curious. He had always assumed that Danarius was some kind of lucrative businessman, or some other profession that allowed him to work from home. There had to be a reason that he spent so much time inside, beyond his being a vampire.

            “I am curious,” he admitted.

            Danarius chuckled and picked up his cane. That was something that also left Leto wondering. He didn’t have any walking difficulties, why did he need a cane? Was it just for appearances?

            “Come. We’re going for a walk,” he said.

            Leto followed Danarius out the door and down the street. For all his time living here, he was still very unfamiliar with the nightlife scene in this part of town. All his time outside had been spent on the streets in the slums, not up here in the wealthier part of the city.

            Streetlamps flickered on and off as they made their way through one of the back alleys to a quieter part. Then, Danarius stopped. Leto looked up and was greeted with blaring neon lights that caused him to squint. _The Magisterium_ it read. However, Leto was no idiot. He knew what this place was.

            “Have you ever been to a strip club dear boy?” Danarius asked him. Leto shook his head. “Truly? I suppose you were young when your mother worked the streets.”

            Leto frowned, an uncomfortable stirring in his gut making him feel sick. He had been oblivious to it when he was young, of course, but looking back on his life in the streets it seemed obvious to him now what his mother’s trade was and what sort of things she must’ve done to keep them all alive. He may have gotten himself into a sticky situation with Danarius but at least through him, his mother didn’t have to work for her last days. She laid in a comfortable bed getting the best treatment possible. Varania never had to follow in her footsteps either, she’d gotten a fantastic opportunity at a bakery. It just left him here, in front of this strip club.

            “Come on inside,” Danarius said and gestured to the door.

            The two of them walked through the doors to the strip club. Leto immediately felt displaced. He was too young to be here after all, weren’t you supposed to be eighteen? Through all the booming noise, he couldn’t even hear his own footsteps as they strolled further inside.

            Men and women alike strolled through the room, fragile pieces of clothing covering only what was important. Some carried alcohol and snacks to those at the tables, the others could be found either dancing on the stages or sitting in the laps of customers. Leto made a weak attempt at shielding his eyes. It felt indecent, it felt wrong. What were they doing here?

            Danarius guided Leto upstairs to one of the balconies and took a seat at one of the booths. Leto sat down opposite him gingerly. At least it was quieter here. He looked to Danarius, hoping to get some kind of answers. _A job opportunity,_ he’d said. He couldn’t possibly mean here, could he? He was underage.

            “Welcome to my establishment,” Danarius said, making an open gesture with his arms. “This is where part of my income comes from. Running this place.”

            Leto swallowed roughly. “Oh.”

            “Tell me. What is it you like? Men? Women?” Danarius continued. He gestured for one of the serving girls to come over. Leto kept his eyes trained on the table when she approached. One slip of clothing and he’d be able to see all of her. Danarius ordered a bottle of wine to be brought to the table and the serving girl nodded before sauntering off. He directed his attention back to Leto. “No need to be shy now. Come on, what is it?”

            Leto thought about the other staff member he’d seen around the estate. The thin but pretty little hands of one of the kitchen girls who Varania worked closely with. Her golden locks cascading down her shoulders, the dip of her chest where her low-cut blouse fell and sweat rolled down from the heat of the kitchen. Then he thought of one of the cleaners, a tall and broad young man with a bit of scruff, who didn’t seem entirely suited to his job. A scar here and there, on his face, on his arms. Yet, he had a gentle smile and the softest hands.

            “Both,” he said quickly, fearing Danarius might have something to say about his hesitance. “I… I like both.”

            Danarius chuckled. “What an unexpected surprise, though a pleasant one. It’ll make things much easier.”

            He really was planning to employ him here, wasn’t he? Leto found it hard to imagine himself as one of them, especially given how they were dressed. Wasn’t it degrading?

            Before long, the serving girl returned with a bottle of wine on a tray with two wine glasses. She set them before him and Danarius and didn’t hesitate to pour them both a glass full of rich, red wine. Then she left the bottle on the table and whisked the tray away with a smile.

            “I can’t… um…” Leto began, staring at the wine.

            “Nonsense. No one will question you here. Drink up,” Danarius said. He took a long sip from his own glass and licked his lips.

            Leto didn’t think he was in any place to say no. He stared at the glass of wine for a moment longer before picking it up and taking a small sip. It was strange on his tongue, fruity almost, but the tang of alcohol definitely sat there for a while. He’d never had anything alcoholic before. He’d always been too young and it wasn’t like he could ever afford it before coming to Danarius’s estate. He wouldn’t have thought he would be giving him alcohol underage, at least until now.

            “Aggregio Pavali,” Danarius told him. “The finest of all red wines.”

            Leto nodded passively. It didn’t taste bad, he supposed. He hoped that Danarius wouldn’t make him drink too much. Whilst he’d never been drunk, he’d heard plenty of things about it. The idea of letting go of his inhibitions was frightening. Vulnerability before a vampire wasn’t exactly high up on his lists of things he wanted.

            “So, I suppose you’re wondering why I have brought you here,” Danarius said. Leto nodded eagerly. “Acquiring food these days isn’t always easy. All these new fancy ways for people to protect themselves makes it difficult for a man to eat. However, suppose I had someone who could lure people. A young, handsome boy perhaps.”

            That made Leto tense. Not only was he asking him to likely dance around in provocative clothing, he wanted him to seduce people to their deaths? That would be a heavy weight on his shoulders, an unforgiving guilt. But what did choice did he have? If he didn’t do this, Danarius might kill him or worse.

            “Will they…” Leto began. He quickly lowered his voice. “Die?”

            “Oh no, nothing of the sort. Just a feed, as I did to you. As tempting as it would be, people would become suspicious if people began dropping dead at my establishment. They’ll pass out and you’ll be there when they wake to tell them what a wonderful experience it was.”

            So, he was to lead these victims to believe that they’d slept with him instead.

            It wasn’t like he was complete foreign to things of a sexual nature. He was a teenager and experienced all the things that came with it. Sexual dreams, thoughts about some of the other staff in the estate, ones that led to some _interesting_ feelings that could only be relieved by his own hand. It was all fantasy, however. He hadn’t ever touched another person like that, he’d never even kissed anyone before.

            “I don’t think I could, um… I mean, what if I’m not good at it? I’ve never…” Leto mumbled.

            Danarius muffled his chuckle with another sip of wine.

            “You’ll learn. Handsome as you are, I think many clients would overlook a little awkwardness to spend time with you,” he said casually.

            Leto hated the way he looked at him when he said that. His icy eyes flickered up and down, as if undressing him with a simple gaze. He hated that he thought he could do this job, he hated that he didn’t think he had a choice otherwise. What would become of him if he said no?

            “I’m not sure,” he said.

            In an instant, Danarius’s demeanour changed. His eyes darkened, his body language became hostile. He leaned over the table slightly, burning holes into Leto’s body with his eyes. It made Leto tense, made him back up on his seat slightly, sweat pooling in the palms of his hands.

            “And what choice do you think you have?” Danarius said. “I have spent so much money on you boy, I gave your mother care, your sister a job. Without me, you’d be nothing, a piece of dirt on the street. Don’t think I won’t easily cast you out there again where you will follow the footsteps of your mother, selling your body for a slice of bread. There your clients will spit on you, abuse you, use you. Is that what you want?”

            “No! No… of course not,” Leto said, his face pale.

            Danarius slowly sat back in his seat. “Do this for me. You will be paid, no one will touch you without my say, you’ll be protected. No one will even know who you are, you’ll get a new name.”

            Leto sat in silence for a few moments. If he was going to be paid, maybe he could save up eventually, get out of this place, away from Danarius. Perhaps he’d be lucky enough to escape his clutches before he killed him. It gave him a glimmer of hope, even if he knew that Danarius was likely going to be paying him a small amount. No doubt, it would take time, but at least if he gave him a new name, a new identity, he could separate it from… whatever he was now.

            “Fine. I’ll… I’ll do it,” Leto said.

            “Good,” Danarius smiled. “First things first. I have chosen a name for you already. You will be henceforth known as _Fenris_. My little wolf.”

            He had been expecting him to accept. Danarius had planned for him to say yes, planned on getting his way no matter what.

            “Fenris,” Leto repeated.

            “That’s right. Now drink your wine, we have much to set up.”

 

The first night at The Magisterium had been a sight to behold that was for sure. Fenris, as he had already begun growing accustomed to due to Danarius’s incessant calling of it, stared down at the small pieces of fabric that were laid for him to change into. The club was well heated, he was unlikely to grow cold even with a complete lack of shirt. He could only imagine that he looked like an idiot, dressed like this.

            When he received his first pay check from Danarius, everything seemed to feel worth it. He’d never had money of his own before and knowing that he could go out and spend it how he liked was freeing. At least, that was what he tried to focus on. He thought of the money, of the potential freedom he could acquire, every time he pulled some poor horny older man by the tie into one of the back rooms where he would become Danarius’s next meal. A part of him thought that they got what they asked for, attempting to sleep with a seventeen-year-old when some were well into their forties.

            Danarius praised him more than he ever had when he’d worked in the gardens. There was almost a sense of pride in what he did. The gazes that once made his skin crawl became fuel for confidence as he grew older. He knew how to make people crumble under his touch, his seduction. There were some that tried to push their luck, but they were quickly put in their place. However, such a thing hardened you.

            From time to time, Danarius would still feed from him. He would be granted a couple days break from work to recover, and then he was back out on the scene. _Fenris_ had become a name on the lips of many of the clients of the club. He was popular and growing ever more. In fact, he’d almost managed to fall into this persona, an embodiment of the _little wolf_ that Danarius wished him to be. That’s when things began to change.

            “I have a suggestion Fenris,” Danarius told him one night. Fenris looked up from his glass of red wine. He’d accumulated quite the taste for that Aggregio Pavali he had been served the first time he came to The Magisterium.

            Danarius slid a picture over to him, a design. Fenris looked down at the image and saw intricate lines encircling the drawing of a man’s body. Swirls, like vines almost, covering almost the entire body. It was beautiful in a way, but Fenris still failed to see what was relevant about it.

            “What is this?” he asked.

            “Tattoo designs,” Danarius said. He leaned back in his chair. “Marvellous white ink. It’d look beautiful on your dusky skin. Exotic. You’re sure to become even more popular.”

            Fenris frowned. The idea of getting tattoos all over his body sounded painful. He’d heard that it hurt. He looked closer and found that they seemed to appear down the neck, a place that surely couldn’t be pleasant to get them. However, he was in no place to say no to Danarius. He didn’t have enough money to leave yet.

            “Is that what you want for me?” he said, knowing the answer.

            “Yes, it is. You would make me happy, wouldn’t you?” Danarius replied. Fenris took a deep breath and nodded. “Good. I will arrange for the first lot in the next day or two.”

            His fate had been sealed, it seemed.

 

To say that getting the tattoos was painful was an understatement, to say the least. He bit his lip until it bled, nails digging into his palms as he squeezed his eyes shut and hoped the pain would fade soon. It took several sessions to do the entirety of his body and by the time it was done, his body felt raw. They would take some time to heal.

            Once everything had healed nicely, once the peeling had stopped, Danarius approached him, guided him towards a floor length mirror.

            “Let me see them,” he said.

            Fenris’s fingers trembled slightly around the knot of his robe. The procedure had required his nudity before the tattoo artist, which had been a hurdle to overcome in itself. He had never been naked in front of Danarius. This whole situation didn’t feel… right. He understood that he just wanted to see what he had paid for, but regardless…

            Taking a deep breath, he pulled the knot free of his robe and let the clothing fall to his feet in a heap. He heard Danarius exhale behind him. Fenris couldn’t help but be a little mesmerised himself, seeing the white lines encircle his body and even crawl up to his face. He didn’t look like himself. Briefly, he wondered what his mother would say if she could see him now.

            To accompany the tattoos, Danarius had arranged for a bleaching of his hair, especially once he noticed a few white hairs after the pain of getting the tattoos. The white looked strange, but he supposed it would after being used to dark hair his whole life.

            He was jerked out of his thoughts by the touch of Danarius’s hand on his bare hip. Danarius stood directly behind him, close enough to feel his breath on the nape of his neck. His other hand moved to cup his chin, to tilt his head from side to side as he admired him in the mirror. Fenris remained passive, letting him do as he pleased.

            “Such a handsome thing you are Fenris,” Danarius said in a husky whisper. “Don’t you see how gorgeous I have made you?”

            Fenris’s breath hitched. “Y-Yes.”

            It was what he wanted to hear, wasn’t it?

            When Danarius leaned in towards his neck, Fenris squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to feel the sharp sting of his teeth any moment now. He was surprised to feel his lips instead, a tender kiss at the base of his neck where some of the bite scars lay. His eyes fluttered back open. Danarius’s hand caressed his hip, down his thigh.

            Inside, Fenris wanted to scream, to push him away, but his body remained unresponsive. He was completely rigid, frozen.

            “I… I don’t…” he began, his voice wavering.

            Danarius quickly shushed him. “It will be alright, little wolf.”

            Fenris’s mouth shut. He didn’t have it in him to fight back, especially not when Danarius’s incisors grazed his skin. It would be so easy for him to rip him apart, naked and vulnerable. So, he remained still.

            He remained still as he took his hand and threw him down on the sheets. He remained still as he took the last thing that he thought he owned. He remained still as he stared up at the ceiling, thinking of how his mother had warned him of men who offered him things, of how they always wanted something in return.

            He remained still.

 

“Pack your things,” Danarius told him one day. Fenris stared blankly back at him, wondering what he could’ve possibly done wrong for him to send him away. He had everything, his service, his blood, his body. There was no reason for him to get rid of him now.

            “I’m… sorry for whatever it is I have done, I…” he began.

            Danarius shook his head. “Nonsense. I’m not getting rid of you Fenris. I just got confirmation that my business is expanding outside of Tevinter. A club is opening up in the Free Marches. I have already booked you in for a night there. We’ll spend a little while in the place, just until things are running smoothly.”

            “Oh,” Fenris said. He let out a small sigh of relief. “I see.”

            “So, get to it then, pack your things. The plane leaves tomorrow morning.”

            Fenris had never been outside of Tevinter before, but apparently Danarius had already arranged for him to receive a passport so he could travel. He stared down at his identification. Seeing Fenris written down felt… strange. It wasn’t him, but it was. This was him now. He didn’t know when Danarius had arranged for this to happen.

            He enjoyed looking out of the plane window at least. First class was comfortable and pleasant, and he got to see the most beautiful overhead view of Minrathous when they took off.

            Another thing he learnt when they got off the plane was that Danarius already had an estate in the Free Marches. It was a fair walking distance from the newly-opened club, however. Danarius had connections everywhere, it seemed. It was easier when you lived for a long time, he supposed. The new estate was different but still easy to settle into. He didn’t have much of a choice regardless.

            Danarius did him the courtesy of showing him around the city of Kirkwall. He had told him on the plane that he would be spending a lot of time out with business partners, negotiating things and the like. Due to the nature of said business partners, these deals would be conducted at night. He felt it was necessary for Fenris to know where he was if they were going to be staying.

            “That’s the only place I know of in the Free Marches that serves Aggregio Pavali,” Danarius told him, gesturing to a bar called _The Hanged Man_. “It is an establishment far beneath you however, Fenris.”

            Fenris nodded along and quickly followed when Danarius began walking again.

            It wasn’t until a couple nights later, after he had done his opening night at the club, that Fenris decided to go wandering the Kirkwall city streets at night. Danarius was out with his business associates and he found himself at the doors of The Hanged Man.

 

“That’s where you met me,” Hawke said, looking at Fenris as he sat with his hands tucked between his legs. “Oh Maker. And you… weren’t a vampire then, huh?”

            Fenris shook his head. “No, that came later. Just before we were due to leave.”

            “And… what happened? If you don’t mind my asking,” Hawke said.

 

Danarius had announced to him that they were due to get back on a plane to Tevinter in a couple days, but first, his business associates had wanted to meet him in person. They’d heard so much about what a name he was back in Tevinter’s club.

            “Go on, give us a show,” one of the men jeered. Fenris’s cheeks burned with humiliation, as if being scantily dressed before a bunch of vampires like a delicious meal wasn’t enough. The other men laughed as he turned away and went to retrieve another bottle of wine from the kitchen.

            Even as he prepared the glasses, he could hear the men talk from the living room.

            “You seem awfully fond of the boy,” one said.

            “Fenris has served me well for many years,” Danarius replied.

            “You’re growing soft.”

            “I am sure you will change that stance as the night progresses.”

            “Oh?”

            Fenris paused in his pouring of drinks. What did that mean? What did Danarius intend to do to him? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He could only swallow his pride and continue pouring as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

            “I have quite the show for you all tonight, rest assured,” Danarius continued. “The fruits of my labour will prove you all wrong, I will show you that it can be done. That a human can…”

            His voice significantly lowered and Fenris bristled with frustration that he could no longer hear the conversation. He took a deep breath and carried in the glasses of wine which he served to each of the men in the living room.

            The night progressed without so much of a word more on Fenris, which made him ever more antsy. Until Danarius eventually called him over.

            “Come sit,” he said, patting his lap. The other man chuckled amongst themselves as Fenris slowly sat himself down. “Close your eyes Fenris.”

            He didn’t want to, not with everything he’d heard over the course of the night, but he wasn’t supposed to know that. His fingers curled into fists by his sides and he closed his eyes. Then, he felt a prick. It wasn’t teeth, he knew that much, but it was in his neck still. Then, cold. Something cold. What was that?

            Before he could do anything else, his body began to convulse. His eyes flew open and he shook more violently than he ever had in his life. Danarius held him as the other men watched with interest. In the corner of his eye he could see the tattoos on his hands begin to glow, sparkle almost. What was happening?

            He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t—

            Danarius’s teeth sunk into the base of his neck. Eventually the convulsions stopped, settled, and the world grew dark.

 

When he awoke, Fenris shivered. Had someone turned all the heating off? Why did he feel so cold? He stared up at the ceiling as he tried to remember what had happened to him. He remembered… coming to Kirkwall. That’s right. Danarius had brought him here and they had met his business associates. Something had happened and now…

            “Fenris?” Danarius’s voice cut through.

            He sat up quickly with a gasp, a hand on his chest. His fingers inched their way up to his throat. He was parched. Needed… something.

            “W… Water,” he croaked.

            Danarius chuckled. “Markus! Get a glass of water, would you?”

            One of Danarius’s hired kitchen staff. Fenris remembered him from a few days prior. He saw the boy scurry out of the room. How long had he been unconscious for? Markus returned shortly with a glass of water and he looked cautiously to Danarius for further instructions.

            “Do us a favour and give him the water Markus. I’m afraid Fenris is feeling a little weak, help him,” Danarius said.

            Markus walked towards Fenris, holding out the glass ready to tip it into his mouth. As he got closer, something feral stirred in Fenris’s gut. It wasn’t water he wanted. His throat ached for something else, something thicker. Oh. He could _smell_ Markus like a hot meal.

            He shook the thought. No. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t… Was he seriously thinking about…? Just what had Danarius done to him? As Markus inched closer, the urge only grew. He wanted to… needed to…

            Markus tilted the glass at his lips.

            Fenris smashed it out of his hands and grabbed him by the throat. The boy squirmed, panic flickering in his gaze as Fenris pinned him back up against one of the far walls. He panted, eyes darkening, and he felt the growth of his teeth, something changing in his mouth. There was no way he could control himself.

            He was just so… _thirsty_.

            By the time he came to his senses, he found only a heap of a body by his feet. Blood dripped from his chin. His hands shook. Red haze still clouded his vision as the realisation of what he’d done slowly began dawning on him.

            “And there you have it. A being with all the strengths of a vampire and yet the delicious scent and blood of a human. A vampire you can feed from,” Danarius announced. It was then that Fenris turned quickly on his heels, noticing the presence of the other unfazed men in the room. They didn’t care that he’d just murdered a boy. They didn’t _care_.

            “You’ve really done it Danarius, impressive,” one of them said.

            “I would still like a taste personally.”

            “I can’t believe it.”

            The voices eventually began to merge until they were a fuzzy haze in Fenris’s mind. He couldn’t… he couldn’t…

            All this time, had he just been a sick experiment to Danarius? What about everything else? Oh, _Maker,_ there was so much blood. And yet, it tasted so good, hot down his throat. No. No, he couldn’t think that. That was a person! His name was! His name was…

            “Come, Fenris,” Danarius demanded.

            Fenris remained still. He couldn’t do this. Who was he? Who? _What_ was he?

            “Fenris,” Danarius’s tone became harsher.

            He had no hold over him now. If he was a vampire now, the very monster he’d feared for so long, then Danarius couldn’t hold that over him anymore. He could just… He could just _go_. What would he even do? Where would he go? Danarius was going back to Tevinter soon. He could stay in Kirkwall.

            Before he could think any harder about it, he took off. He raced up the stairs to his room, piling a few clothes in his arms.

            “Fenris!”

            He could hear Danarius’s footsteps coming closer and closer.

            Thump. Thump. Thump.

            Fenris’s heart raced. Where was his money? He hadn’t brought all of it to the Free Marches. Most of it was still stuck in Tevinter. Fuck. Nothing he could do about it now.

            Thump. Thump. Thump.

            Fenris picked up the small pouch of money he had and tucked it in one of the pockets of the jacket he’d picked up. Then, the door slammed open.

            “Fenris!” Danarius yelled.

            It was now or never. He had to go. Fenris’s eyes darted around the room before lingering the window. Vampires had good immunity, right? He raced to the window before Danarius could catch him, pushing it open and taking one large leap of faith.

            “FEEEEEEEEENRISSSSSSSSSS!”

 

“And you got away?”

            Hawke stared at him, eyes blinking owlishly.

            “The clothes I carried broke my fall somewhat. I was okay. You vampires are… resilient, to say the least,” Fenris explained.

            “And I suppose you ended up back at my bar? Asking me to take you home?” Hawke continued.

            Fenris nodded. “I spent one night out on the street, it was close to dawn when I jumped out of that window. I managed to hide away in an abandoned building when the sun rose. Danarius must’ve been out looking for me, I am lucky he didn’t find me. By the time the sun went down again, I went to the bar. You were always kind to me, unlike anything I’d ever known so I thought you could help me… I thought Danarius had given up and gone back to Tevinter, but evidently, he’s… come back. For me, no doubt.”

            “He won’t touch you Fenris,” Hawke said, a stern look in his eyes.

            “He’s a dangerous man,” Fenris warned. “It is only luck that I am alive.”

            Hawke shook his head. “What you went through, it’s… _horrific_ that he groomed you like that, he made you… do all those things. It’s _sick_ Fenris, it makes me feel sick. Over my dead body will he lay his hands on you again.”

            It made Fenris’s heart race. No one had ever stood up for him before. He felt at a loss of what to do. He ended up just smiling a little, eyes downcast.

            “Thank you, Hawke,” he said.

            “Hey,” Hawke reached out and took his hands in his. “It’s okay.”

            “I suppose this is what it means to have a friend?” Fenris asked.

            Hawke smiled back at him. “Perhaps.”


End file.
